


Cure Against The Nightmares

by sendoffire



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awkward Romance, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo Has Awful Nightmares, Bilbo stays in Erebor, Fluff, M/M, My First Hobbit Work, Nightmares, Thorin Is There To Protect, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sendoffire/pseuds/sendoffire
Summary: The dwarves got so used to the terrors that the sleep brought, they were completely oblivious to the thought of what their adventure may bring to a creature that spent all his life in the comfort of his home, and who’s worst horror in life was a missing spoon or an empty pantry just before the guests were to arrive.It also didn’t help that this particular creature was very good at hiding his troubles.





	Cure Against The Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anna_banana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_banana/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to @Anna_banana! Not only is she turning a year older today, but she also was the one who suggested the idea for the fic, and so I thought it only suitable to write it for her (and for everyone else to read, of course!)
> 
> This is my first work for the Hobbit fandom, so please let me know what you think! :)

Thorin was used to nightmares.

They have been haunting him ever since the first night spent sleeping on bare rocks, dragon roars and cries of his people ringing in his ears, seeping through into the restless mind.

Night after night he would fall into a slumber and see images of burning trees lighting up the sky with dark colours, hear the dwarrow shouting for help, witness the fall of Erebor over and over again behind the closed eyelids.

Eventually, the prince came to be proficient in ignoring the horrors, managing to cast the horrible whispers far during the day and keeping them at bay throughout the night, optioning either not to sleep at all, or be on the verge of waking, should the malicious spirits try and control his judgement.

Thus, his horror-filled nights first turned into insomnia, which then transferred into a pattern of short, light naps, that were just barely enough to keep the dwarf king sane and functioning.

 

He knew that many others in the Company suffered from the same ‘illness’, should you want to call it that.

He saw Balin wake up panting and dripping in sweat during their stay at Bilbo’s house, and he has noticed that Bofur sometimes took up night shifts from others, just to stay awake longer and not face whatever waited him when he closed his eyes.

 

The dwarves got so used to the terrors that the sleep brought, simply because each one of them had so much to be afraid of, they were completely oblivious to the thought of what their adventure may bring to a creature that spent all his life in the comfort of his home, and who’s worst horror in life was a missing spoon or an empty pantry just before the guests were to arrive.

It also didn’t help that this particular creature was very good at hiding his troubles.

_____________

 

Bilbo woke up with a jolt, echoes of his own wavering screams still ringing across the room. Shadows, created by the blackening coal flickering in the fireplace – a reminder of a warming fire that Bilbo set up the other evening – carried the shapes of the nightmares that just now were tangled in the burglar’s head, trying to get into his very heart and crash it viciously.

Hobbit’s chest heaved in an attempt to regain his breathing and finally gather his thoughts.

He hasn’t slept for the past two months — couldn’t, with all the memories, and what-could-be-s and would-be-s haunting him, making the poor halfling forget what it felt like to sleep through the whole night without waking himself up with his own screaming and whimpering.

 

Crawling out from beneath the furs and knitted blankets – his own personal touch in the room –Bilbo padded across the floor towards a small table next to the balcony where a jug filled with spring water stood, along with several cups and glasses. Clutching the metal pitcher in both hands, the hobbit slowly poured himself a glass of water, trying not to spill too much due to the shaking of his whole body.

Shadows of the nightmare he just saw still lingered in his mind, occasional screams and battle cries piercing through his pointy ears. Bilbo winced and made a sip, feeling how the coolness of the liquid slowly calmed his hammering heart.

 

He has never had nightmares, until he stepped over the porch of Bag End to follow thirteen dwarves and help reclaim their homeland. Since then, every single dream he’s had has been tainted by sticky darkness, ruined by the feeling of fear that crept into his soul.

 

Shuddering from the cool air that got into the room through the balcony door, Bilbo decides that a walk around the castle will ease his mind, and maybe he’ll manage to catch a couple more hours of sleep.

Moving to get his house coat from the armchair, the hobbit stepped towards the door, slowly opening it to let the mirky light of the corridor torches in. The light, however, did not come, as it was shielded from him by a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing right in front of Bilbo’s room.

 

“Thorin?” Mumbled the hobbit, recognising the dwarf in the shallow lightning. King Under The Mountain was dressed in cotton trousers and matching night shirt, his raven hair noticeably tussled and eyes sparkling with something, Bilbo would place between worry and fright.

“You screamed,” simply stated the dwarf, and Bilbo noticed that his voice sounded even rougher than usual. Hearing Thorin speak calmed Bilbo down and, even though he would never admit it, the hobbit was happy to know that he wasn’t the only one awake at this hour.

However, the Burglar was not going to admit the truth to Thorin that easily.

“Ah, I just got startled by a raven that flew by, nothing serious,” said Bilbo waving his hand almost as if he was trying to wave Thorin’s worries away too. The dwarf smirked. “I do not think those screams were caused by a simple bird, Master Hobbit.”

For a second Bilbo thought that the smile, spreading across Thorin’s lips for a brief moment, was a riddle of light, a game that his mind decided to throw upon him, but it disappeared too soon for the tired hobbit to think anything more about it.

Signing, Bilbo decided to give up.

“Fine, I was having night terrors. Have been having, in fact, for the past year and a half, although of course they got worse after the battle. I’m sure I’m not the only one, so no need to worry I assure you, they will pass... eventually.”

 

Thorin’s brows, that were knitted tightly just above his nose, rose immediately, giving away the shock that Bilbo’s confession caused. The Hobbit shuffled nervously under the king’s stare, and decided it best to look down at his hands that were fumbling with the belt of his house coat.

“The others are used to nightmares, but you...” Thorin stopped, trying to correctly place his next words. “I fear that you may be more susceptible to the dark magic of horrors than the rest of us.”

“Why is that?” Grumped Bilbo, not entirely sure if Thorin was hinting at his ‘weakness due to him being not a dwarf’ again. He really thought they were past that point log ago.

“Because you are pure at heart,” softly replied the dwarrow king. Raising his right palm, Thorin lightly placed it on Bilbo’s chest, right above his heart, and the hobbit could not ignore the tingles that gesture sent flying across his body.

“A dwarf’s heart is ready to withstand all kinds of brutal emotion, and therefore our senses, even though affected by the nightmares, are not harmed by them. Yes, over a long period of time it may bring ruin to our mind, poisoning it with fear, and anger, and emptiness, but we’ve long learned to keep the nightmares at bay, because if we didn’t, I doubt the race of dwarves would survive this long.” Thorin chuckled dryly, before continuing. “Your heart, on the other head, is not immune to, well, any kinds of distress. You are-“

“Not a dwarf,” finished Bilbo his sentence, looking right into Thorin’s eyes. His palm was still placed on Bilbo’s chest and the hobbit started feeling his cheeks heating up. The king shook his head. “No, but you are something better, Master Baggins. Something much more kind than any dwarf could ever wish to be.”

 

Bilbo huffed in protest. “That is absolutely not true. I am not better than anyone on the quest, or in this castle for that matter. I mean, you are kind, Thorin, and don’t deny it. I know you are.” Absentmindedly, he reached to clutch Thorin’s palm in his own, noting how surprisingly soft and warm the dwarf’s hands were.

Thorin hummed in surprise, causing Bilbo to let out a quiet squeak when he realised what he has done. But, before the hobbit could say anything else, Thorin smiled - a genuine, open smile! - and turned his palm to lightly tangle his and Bilbo’s fingers together.

“Thank you... Bilbo.”

The hobbit shuddered at the sound of his name rolling out through Thorin’s throat, and smiled softly, looking at the piercing blue eyes.

“I-I should probably try and go back to sleep, wouldn’t want to wake anybody else up by shuffling around the corridors,” said Bilbo in an unusually high-pitched voice, completely forgetting about his intentions to roam the mountain. Thorin nodded.

“Then I shall hold you no longer,” with that, he raised their still tangled hands and pressed a feathery soft kiss to the back of Bilbo’s palm, before letting it go.

“Sleep well, Master Hobbit, and do not hesitate to call for someone, should you receive another nightmare. You are among friends here, nobody will judge.”

 

Bilbo nodded hurriedly, not being able to form words properly, and slowly shuffled back to his room, following with his gaze the dark-haired figure that was disappearing in the end of the corridor.

“Thorin!” The name left his lips long before he could comprehend what he was doing. The figure halted to a stop, and with a swoosh of long hair, the dwarven king turned to look at the hobbit.

“Yes, Master Baggins?”

“I think... I think it would be more efficient to call for someone before the nightmares get the chance to catch me again, don’t you?”

Thorin’s chest rumbled with a throaty laugh. “Always the voice of logic, Master Burglar,” he said with amusement, although started to move back towards Bilbo’s room. The hobbit’s face lit up with a shy smile and he moved inside the room, allowing the king to enter after him.

Grabbing a spare pillow from the couch, Thorin followed Bilbo to the bed. Waiting while the hobbit whisked under the covers again, the king slowly lowered himself onto the mattress, sliding beside the small hobbit figure.

 

Deciding that at this point nothing could make this situation more awkward and unusual, Bilbo shuffled closer and laid his head on Thorin’s shoulder, humming contently when the dwarf moved to wrap his strong, muscled arm around hobbit’s back.

“Go back to sleep, Bilbo, I’ll be here to fight off your nightmares,” whispered Thorin, placing a soft kiss to the top of Bilbo’s hair. The hobbit smiled happily and nodded, finally closing his eyes, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, he slept until dawn without waking up once, and when he did, stretching his arms above his head, he found that Thorin was still there, clutching softly on Bilbo’s waist as if his life depended on it.

 

Bilbo smiled. Maybe having nightmares won’t be so bad, if Thorin is there to protect him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcomed and appreciated :)  
> You can reach me on instagram (@sendoffire) or twitter (@a_her_o).


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